


Honey Dust

by hawk_soaring



Category: NCIS
Genre: Forced Prostitution, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-11 17:07:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/801088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawk_soaring/pseuds/hawk_soaring
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony goes undercover and loses himself.  Gibbs finds he has lost even more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honey Dust

Title: Honey Dust  
Author: hawk_soaring  
Written for: [](http://www.dreamwidth.org/profile?user=ingenius_inc)[**ingenius_inc**](http://www.dreamwidth.org/profile?user=ingenius_inc) in the [](http://ncis-ficathon.dreamwidth.org/profile)[](http://ncis-ficathon.dreamwidth.org/)**ncis_ficathon** community  
Prompt(s): Hooker!Tony (I don’t care how); When Tony goes undercover for too long, he has trouble coming back. First time fic with emo and confused Tony, angry Gibbs.  
Archive: BiA, WWOMB, all others please ask  
Genre: slash  
Pairings: Tony/ OMC(s), Tony/ Gibbs  
Rating: FRAO  
Disclaimer: I don’t own the boys. I try to be nice, but my baser urges usually take over.  
Word Count: 16,161  
Summary: Tony goes undercover and loses himself. Gibbs finds he has lost even more.  
Warnings: Forced prostitution, drug addiction, violence, M/M  
A/N: Thanks to Annie for the wonderful beta!

~*~*~  


“Three weeks, DiNozzo?” Gibbs glanced up at his senior agent. Sure, Tony took a week off for Spring Break every year but, other than that one predictable vacation, he’d never asked for any substantial time off: a day here, a day there, nothing more. This just wasn’t like him and the request, coupled with Tony’s obvious discomfort at asking for the time, was grating on him.

“Yeah, Boss. I’ve got the time and I need some down time. Been working too hard for too long and I need to get away.” Tony grinned. “My buddies and I rented a house in the Bahamas and I can’t wait to get there.”

“Already rented a house, huh?” Gibbs said easily, watching Tony for any reaction.

Tony’s gaze slid away from his and his grin faltered. “Yeah, Boss. Already rented the house. I didn’t think there’d be any problem.”

Gibbs watched Tony for a long minute before shrugging and signing the paper on his desk. “No problem, Tony,” he said as he held up the paper. As Tony plucked the paper from his hand, Gibbs held it a second longer, looking up at his senior agent. “Let me know if you need anything, Tony. Anything.”

Tony blinked. “S-sure thing, Boss,” he said sincerely. Then he pasted a smile on his face and added, “But I’m sure I can handle things. Not like I can’t hold my own with my buddies.”

Gibbs nodded, the entire conversation sitting wrong with him. “Have a good vacation, DiNozzo.” He thought Tony was walking a little slowly for a man about to take a long vacation on a sunny island filled with hot babes.

Gibbs followed Tony’s progress to the elevators and only turned around when the doors closed behind him. His gaze strayed to the upper floor and he was surprised to see Director Vance also monitoring Tony’s progress. The director met Gibbs’ stare for a moment before turning and walking to his office.

~*~*~

Tony packed his bags quickly and headed downstairs to catch the car that was being sent for him. Things were moving quickly and he didn’t have time to catch his breath, much less take the time to actually think about what it was he was doing. The car was waiting and he climbed in with a stifled sigh, thinking that he’d have plenty of time to mull things over once he was in the air.

The flight was uneventful and he forced all thoughts of what he was doing from his mind and managed to fall asleep. He didn’t imagine he was going to be getting too much sleep for the foreseeable future.

The hand that shook him awake was gentle, yet Tony still startled upright, only biting back a cry of surprise by sheer luck.

“You okay?”

Tony managed a nod and ran a shaking hand over his face, banishing the last vestiges of sleep as he looked around. The belly of the plane was a roiling mass of bodies as everyone gathered their stowed gear and prepared to deplane.

“Agent DiNozzo?”

Tony turned at the gruff voice to see a tall, thick-set man standing in front of him.

“I’m Bill Baker,” the man said, extending a hand in greeting.

Tony shook the proffered hand warily. “You’re from the San Diego office?”

Bill nodded solemnly. “Yes – and I have been assigned as your liaison here in Yuma.”

Tony nodded and picked up his bag, slinging it over his shoulder easily. “Well, let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”

Bill grinned. “Sure thing, Tony.”

Once the two men were off the plane, Bill glanced around. “You sleep much?” he asked.

Tony shrugged. “Some.”

“Never could sleep on those military transports,” Bill said with a mock shudder.

Tony grinned. He thought he could actually like this man. That would help. Where he was going, he would need someone trustworthy at his back.

~*~*~

“Headquarters” was a hotel room on the edge of town.

“Nice digs,” Tony quipped as he walked into the room and dropped his bag on the floor in front of the curtained window. The room had two double beds, two slightly frayed-looking chairs, a TV set sitting on a tall dresser, and a scarred desk. There was a closed door that Tony assumed concealed a closet, and another door that was slightly ajar through which Tony could see a bathroom. As he turned around he saw that Bill was watching him and he feigned nonchalance.

Bill shrugged. “You have to admit it’s low key.”

Tony grinned. “No truer words,” he murmured.

“George Sanchez and Sam Walker,” Bill said, indicating two other men. Both greeted Tony quietly and he nodded back as he took a seat in one of the chairs.

Tony fidgeted for a minute as he watched the three men converse quietly, huddled around a laptop. “You going to fill me in?” he asked. “Or am I the subject of your little conversation?”

The three men turned almost as one, guilt and embarrassment on their faces. Tony smiled and leaned back in the chair, turning on the DiNozzo charm.

“It’s not like that, Tony,” Bill said quickly.

“Really?” Tony drew out the word, putting all his doubts into the one little word.

Now it was Bill’s turn to fidget. Tony waited patiently. He knew that the guys didn’t think he could do the job. Hell – he was pushing 40. That didn’t mean that he had to look his age. He knew he looked younger – and he sure as hell didn’t act his age. All his life he’d had to live with people’s preconceived notions. He could wait.

“Well,” Bill said after a minute. “You’re not exactly eighteen, DiNozzo.”

Tony grinned and laced his fingers behind his neck, using his hands as a pillow. “Nope – and thank god for that! High school was a bitch. College, on the other hand—“ Tony whistled appreciatively. “College I could do again.” He sighed. “The girls. The parties—“ He sighed loudly.

“You’re – what? Thirty? Thirty-two?” Bill said, exasperation coloring his voice.

Tony grinned, deliberately avoiding answering the question put before him. “You saying I can’t do the job?”

Bill looked away, running a hand through his hair as he looked out between the panels of the closed drapes. “Sam,” he said, “explain it to him.”

Sam nodded and turned to Tony, seeming to take his measure before speaking. “Tony,” he began, “you seem like a nice guy.”

Tony barked out a laugh. “Look, I appreciate the platitudes, but I was sent here to do a job. If you don’t think you can back me up, tell me now and I’ll get a new crew.”

Sam frowned and the other two men turned to stare at Tony. “We didn’t say—“

“You didn’t have to. Look, I know I’m not eighteen – and the last one to die was – but I’m good, really good at what I do. Give me ten minutes and I can prove it to you. Then, if you still don’t think I can do this, we can call our bosses. Deal?”

Sam shrugged and Tony watched as George did the same. Tony looked at Bill and raised an eyebrow. Bill seemed to think things over for a moment before sighing loudly. “Impress me,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the window sill.

Tony knew he had only one chance to show these guys he could pull off the job. It wasn’t like he wanted to do it, but he hadn’t been given a choice. He was Vance’s puppet as much as he’d been Jenny’s – and he hated it but there wasn’t anything he could do about it unless he wanted to quit. And Vance knew he didn’t want to quit. Hell, Vance knew more about why he stayed at NCIS than Tony did himself – and that scared the hell out of him.

Picking up his bag, Tony headed to the bathroom. He had ten minutes to transform himself or he ran the risk of losing his job. Some days he thought it would be for the best if that happened and then he’d look over to where his boss sat and he knew he couldn’t walk away from him. Leroy Jethro Gibbs was the best thing that had ever happened to NCIS and he wouldn’t let Vance tear him down. Unfortunately, Vance knew how Tony felt about his boss and had been using it at every turn. This latest assignment was only one in a long line of less than savory assignments. He could only hope it wouldn’t be his last. No one but Vance even knew he was here – and that thought alone was enough to turn his blood to ice.

~*~*~

Ten minutes wasn’t very long, but Tony was a seasoned veteran and when he sauntered out of the bathroom with a minute and a half to spare, the soft wolf whistles told him all he needed to know: he was in.

“Damn, Tony,” Bill said softly as he pushed away from the window sill, his arms falling to his sides.

Tony turned from Bill to find Sam and George staring open-mouthed. He smiled. It wasn’t easy to put this look on, but it wasn’t something he was unfamiliar with either. Hell, when he’d been in Baltimore he’d gone undercover more than once looking like this. And he loved undercover work – or, at least, he used to. Lately, it seemed that Vance was giving him all the shit assignments and this was one of them.

Hookers and johns were getting killed and the last two sets of murders had involved off duty Marines. Coincidence? Maybe – but they weren’t taking any chances, especially since this was the third city murders such as these had occurred in. First there were three murders near Camp Pendleton, all Marines, then four in San Diego, two hookers and two sailors, and now three in Yuma, one hooker and two marines. They had no guarantee that the murderer would stay in the area, but they were betting on it. There was a lot of nothing around here – and the three bodies had been well hidden. For all they knew, more murders had already been committed and they simply hadn’t found the bodies yet. Tony had been sent to find the perp and stop the murders. He knew if he failed that Vance would most likely drum him out of NCIS. Some days he thought it might be easier. Unfortunately, he also knew that Vance would get him blackballed in every law enforcement agency in the country and Tony loved his job so here he was, playing along with yet another one of Vance’s schemes.

Tony slouched against the door frame, the light in the bathroom shining behind him. He’d just thrown this look together – ten minutes didn’t really do it justice – but from the looks on the agents’ faces, Tony figured they were convinced. His blue jeans looked painted on, threadbare patches framing his assets to perfection. He wore a white cut-off wifebeater and the rings in his nipples pressed against the thin fabric while the gem at his navel peeked out from under the edge of the shirt. He was lean, his muscles well-defined, and he smiled inwardly at the thought of his co-workers seeing him like this. McGee thought he was soft, but he really had no idea just what was hiding under Tony’s clothes. He’d changed since Kate’s death. He was harder now and it showed. He was down an easy twenty pounds since then and there wasn’t an ounce of wasted fat. Running at least ten miles a day and spending two hours in the gym had sculpted him into a lean machine. Flaunting it was the easy part of this assignment. Putting his feelings of revulsion aside would be the hard part. His make-up was subtle; a little kohl ringing his eyes, a dab of lip gloss, and enough hair gel to give his hair that just slept in look.

“Twenty-six?” Bill said, biting his lip.

“Could make it twenty if he was willing to shave,” George said after a moment.

Tony snickered at the light blush that stained George’s face when Sam punched him lightly on the arm and asked him what he was doing looking so closely. Bill grinned and told Tony that he thought that Tony could maybe actually pull this one off. Tony thanked him and asked if he could use the bathroom for an extended period of time. At the raised eyebrows Tony laughed and pulled two tubes of Nair out of his bag.

“Time to depilate,” he said easily, hiding the grin that threatened to erupt at the looks of discomfort the three agents threw his way. “So who wants to do my back?” he asked, looking around at the suddenly quiet men.

“Wh-what?” Sam stuttered.

“Look, guys. I can do everyplace but between my shoulderblades so who’s going to help me? I’ll even stay decent until you leave the bathroom.” Tony waggled his eyebrows comically as he wiggled the tube of Nair in his fingers.

The three agents looked at each other uneasily. Finally Bill sighed loudly. “I’ll do it,” he said gruffly. “Pussies,” he muttered as he followed Tony into the bathroom, closing the door slightly but leaning it cracked open. “The ventilation sucks,” he said to Tony’s inquisitive look.

Tony just smiled.

~*~*~

“Where the hell is DiNozzo?”

McGee looked up from where he was avidly working on a report. Gibbs had been watching him for a couple of minutes every time he looked up to see if Tony had graced them with his presence today. It was obvious that McGee had been trying his best to blend into his surroundings and hoping fervently that Gibbs wouldn’t ask him the question he had just asked. Gibbs waited.

“B-boss?” McGee stammered as he looked across the bullpen to where Ziva sat. A quick shrug from the Mossad agent made McGee frown as he looked back at Gibbs. “I –“ He licked his lips. “I don’t know, Boss.”

“Officer David?”

Ziva sat up straighter. “He is not here, Gibbs,” she said unnecessarily.

Gibbs rolled his eyes. “I can see that. The question wasn’t where is he not? It was ‘where is he’?”

Ziva huffed out an annoyed breath. “Well, he is not here. Therefore he must still be at home – or at the home of one of his bozos.”

“Bimbos,” McGee corrected absently.

“Bimbos, bozos, what is the difference?” Ziva snapped.

Gibbs raised a hand and shook his head as McGee opened his mouth to answer the question. “Rhetorical, McGee,” he said. “What do we know?”

“About what, Agent Gibbs?”

Gibbs tensed as he recognized the voice of the director. Turning slowly he nodded toward the man standing in front of him. “Director Vance,” he acknowledged. “Just wondering where my senior field agent is this morning. He was due back from vacation today.”

Vance stared at Gibbs solemnly for a moment before smiling. “Didn’t you hear? Agent DiNozzo called in early this morning. Apparently he’s had a family emergency. He asked to extend his vacation by another three weeks.”

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. “Really?” Sarcasm and disbelief colored that one word but Vance stood his ground.

“Really, Agent Gibbs.” Vance took a breath and looked around at the assembled team. “I granted Agent DiNozzo’s request. He will be gone another three weeks.” When no one moved, Leon smirked. “I’m sure you can find something useful to do instead of standing around speculating about your absent coworker.”

The team watched Director Vance walk away and then, at Gibbs’ subtle nod, they moved to their desks. McGee was obviously nervous, his gaze shifting back and forth between Ziva and Gibbs numerous times before settling on his computer screen. His hands hovered over the keyboard. Gibbs bit back a sigh of frustration, gave Ziva a stern look that made her quickly get to work, and walked over to stand in front of McGee’s desk.

“Are you having trouble with your assignment, McGee?” he asked softly.

McGee turned wide, startled eyes to Gibbs. “B-boss?”

Gibbs leaned forward, bracing his weight on his hands, stifling a growl when McGee pulled back. “Find Tony. His family is the poster child for dysfunctional and I will not believe that he dropped everything to run off for some family emergency – not without proof.”

~*~*~

Tony ran his tongue over dry, chapped lips. He was lying down and, if he had to venture a guess, he’d say he was on a mattress. If the smell was anything to go by, it wasn’t a very clean mattress. Sighing softly, he turned his head, biting back a groan as his bruised cheek came into contact with the scratchy pillowcase. He blinked slowly, silently willing the room to stop the spinning his movement had caused.

“You awake, slut?” a deep, voice growled.

Tony flinched, the movement making his gut clench and forcing a groan of discomfort from his throat. “P-please,” he whispered as he rolled to his side and began to retch, his arms wrapping across his cramping abdomen.

A booted foot caught him on the hip and rolled him onto his back again, where he lay, gasping against the pain and blinking up into a smirking face. “You ready to play nice then, Honey?”

Tony sobbed as he nodded his head. “Y-yes, S-Sebastian. Anything – j-just please m-make it stop.”

The man, Sebastian, grinned and reached into his back pocket. Tony watched from under heavy-lidded eyes as Sebastian held aloft a syringe. He couldn’t tear his gaze away as the cap was pulled off and Sebastian knelt beside the dirty mattress. Tony closed his eyes as Sebastian straightened his arm, tied off a tourniquet with ruthless efficiency and then slid the needle in his vein. He could feel the drug rush into his body, slithering and sliding through his bloodstream, a feeling of euphoria beginning almost immediately. Licking his lips, he sighed softly.

Dimly, Tony heard Sebastian chuckle evilly at the sound and a tear slid down the side of his face as he curled onto his side, the chain at his ankle jangling softly with his movement.

~*~*~  
~*~*~

The assignment had begun uneventfully. Bill, George, and Sam had set him up in a room – a hovel really. The old hotel was run down. Most of the rooms had long term tenants. The remaining rooms were rented by the hour, to Tony’s unending amusement and frustration (when it kept him from getting any sleep at all). He’d managed to befriend the local hookers and was slowly winning over their trust. After a few rather ribald conversations with them he’d been dubbed Honey Dust and the girls teased him unmercifully about his uses. There were a couple of young men on his chosen street as well and he found himself wanting to warn them of the danger they could be in – and trying to keep his distance so as not to blow his own cover. The men were a bit more reticent than the women and he found it difficult to engage them in any kind of conversation, meaningful or not.

After about a week, Tony had managed to befriend one of the young men, an “almost nineteen” year old named Kyle. He hadn’t been able to glean much personal information except to learn that Kyle belonged to someone. The name of that someone continued to be a mystery, however, but Tony did catch a glimpse of the man one night when he came to pick Kyle up.

The first words out of the man’s mouth had been, “How much, slut?” When Kyle had stammered out a reply, the man had barked at him to get his “ugly ass” into the car. Kyle had complied quickly, shooting Tony a look that begged for help at the same time that it warned him away. Tony had stayed back, blending back into the shadow of the building as much as possible, not wanting to draw the man’s attention. All Tony could tell was that the man was big – huge, hulking – and that his voice was a deep, growling bass. That, and he liked to swear. As Kyle closed the car door, the man reached out and slapped him, rocking his head back and Tony saw Kyle reach a hand up to his cheek as he hunched down in his seat and cowered away from the man. Tony already hated him and he didn’t even know his name.

As the car pulled away, the other hookers wandered closer to each other. It was only then that Tony realized everyone had melted back into the shadows when the car had pulled up.

“So,” Tony drawled, “who the hell was that?”

Santa Fe sidled up to Tony. “You don’t want to know, Honey,” she said softly, her worried gaze looking down the street to where the car had disappeared.

“Why?” Tony asked softly.

“That was Kyle’s pimp, Sebastian,” Rose said, putting her arm around Santa Fe and hugging the other woman tightly. Tony saw that both women were trembling.

“That was his pimp? Isn’t he supposed to be caring for him – looking out for Kyle?”

Santa Fe shook her head and smiled sadly. “Only in the movies, Honey,” she said. “In the real world? Out here on the streets? A pimp isn’t going to save your ass. They own it – and sell it. You’re nothing but a commodity to a pimp.”

Tony nodded and bit his lip. “So why have one?”

Rose chuckled. “On your own, you’re prey for everyone. If you have a pimp, you’re only prey for one person.”

“Lesser of two evils?”

Santa Fe nodded. “Sometimes – but with Sebastian, it’s not the lesser of evils. That man is the devil incarnate. You mark my words. He’s trouble – and Kyle is in over his head with that one. The deaths around here?”

Rose put her fingers on Santa Fe’s lips. “Don’t, sugar. Please – don’t say it.” She turned to Tony. “Honey – just stay out of Sebastian’s way – okay?”

Tony nodded, his mind spinning with the possibilities. Maybe he’d found the perpetrator. It sure hadn’t taken long if that was the case. This assignment was turning out to be way too easy. “I will,” he promised, resisting the urge to cross his fingers behind his back. If Sebastian was his man, he’d have to approach him eventually.

Kyle showed up again two days later. By then Tony was pretty sure they were going to find his body along with his latest john. Instead, Kyle sported a black eye and winced when he moved like he had bruised ribs. The dead whore they found was a young kid that Tony had seen around a couple of times. In face, the last time he’d seen him he was hanging on Tony’s corner. The john wasn’t even a Marine. Things were getting complicated.

Rose was the one to bring up the kid’s death. She called him Jimmy and when Kyle heard the name he blanched, turned away, and vomited. Tony moved quickly, putting an arm around his shoulders and drawing Kyle away from the mess he’d made. When Kyle started to sob, Tony looked around for help. Santa Fe and Rose were moving away in the other direction, obviously trying to put some distance between themselves and the smell of the vomit that littered the walkway. Tony sighed and pulled Kyle into his arms, letting the younger man burrow close. Kyle’s fingers closed on Tony’s shirt and he held on tightly.

“I kn-knew him,” Kyle said hesitantly at Tony’s inquiry. “He – he was nice. He didn’t belong here.” Kyle’s hand let go of Tony’s shirt long enough to finger the bruise on his cheek gently and Tony got the feeling there was something that Kyle wasn’t telling him.

“When was the last time you saw Jimmy?” Tony asked.

Kyle sighed. “He – he stole a trick from me a couple of d-days ago. S-Sebastian was furious.” Kyle gasped as if realizing what he’d said and Tony rubbed gentle circles on his back, soothing him.

Tony had seen evidence of Sebastian’s temper when he’d struck Kyle – and the evidence lingered on Kyle’s face even now. He was sure that, if he lifted Kyle’s shirt, there would be even more evidence coloring Kyle’s ribs in purpling bruises. But now he had even more troubling information. The last thing Jimmy had been seen doing was stealing a trick from Kyle. So, if Sebastian had gotten angry, why didn’t he simply try to recruit him into his stable? Why kill him?

A thought occurred to Tony. “Did Jimmy have a pimp?”

Kyle sniffled and pushed away from Tony. He swiped a grimy hand over his eyes and nodded. “Yeah – he was on a pretty short leash too.”

Tony tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

That was when Kyle told him about Jimmy’s pimp and how controlling he’d been. Funny thing was – the pimp had been arrested the night before Jimmy had gone missing. Jimmy had been unprotected.

Kyle sniffled and wiped his face again, keeping his head down and his gaze lowered. Tony ruffled Kyle’s hair gently. “It’s okay, man. You don’t have to be embarrassed about this.”

Kyle snorted softly. “It’s just – I think I know who did this,” he said softly, looking around quickly as if to see if anyone was watching them.

“Who, Kyle?” Tony asked urgently, his fingers gripping Kyle’s arms. “Who did this?”

Kyle struggled in Tony’s grasp. “H-honey, you’re hurting me!”

“What’s going on here?” The deep bass voice startled both men and Tony found himself reaching behind his back for a weapon that wasn’t there.

“Sebastian!” Kyle squeaked as he spun around to face his obviously angry pimp.

Tony watched as Sebastian backhanded Kyle, making the young man fall to his knees. Kyle put up a hand and shook his head as Tony made a move to help him. That, coupled with Sebastian’s low growl, stopped Tony in his tracks.

As Kyle got to his feet, Sebastian grabbed him by one arm and shook him. “Who’s your little friend, slut?” he growled, his spittle dotting Kyle’s face as he spat the words at him.

“N-no one, Sebastian. J-just a guy,” Kyle stammered.

Tony stepped forward, his hips swaying easily as he moved. “They call me Honey,” he said seductively, trying to pull Sebastian’s focus from Kyle so the kid would’t get hurt any more.

Sebastian grabbed Tony by the throat and pushed him up against the side of the building. He was a big man, easily five inches taller than Tony and seventy pounds heavier. His hand felt like a vice around Tony’s neck and Tony struggled in his grasp.

“I don’t like anyone touching my property – Honey,” Sebastian spat.

Tony swallowed with difficulty around Sebastian’s grip. “N-no problem, man,” he gasped. “W-won’t happen again.”

Kyle stumbled forward, grasping Sebastian’s arm. “Please, Sebastian. D-don’t hurt him.” Kyle fell to his knees, still holding on to his pimp’s arm.

Sebastian tangled the fingers of one hand in Kyle’s long hair, using it to pull Kyle’s head up sharply. Kyle gasped in pain, his hands going to his head, holding onto his hair around Sebastian’s fist as if trying to lessen the pressure of his pimp’s pull.

“You like this one, then?” Sebastian growled.

Kyle nodded as much as he was able. “Yes,” he gasped. “I like him. Please, Sebastian.”

Sebastian looked at Tony for a long minute before loosening his grip on Tony’s throat. “You got a protector, Honey?”

Tony cleared his throat softly, using the time to think. If he said yes, would Sebastian just walk away – or would he stake his claim on Kyle by beating the crap out of him for touching his property. As confident as Tony was about being in shape, he knew there was no way he could hold his own against Sebastian. The man was all muscle and outweighed him by a lot. Just from the way he held onto Tony as he pressed him against the wall, Tony could tell that he knew what he was doing – and how to hurt someone.

“I’m solo,” Tony said after a minute. He couldn’t be sure how Sebastian would react to that news but something in the way Sebastian had asked the question told Tony that he might have a better chance of not getting beaten if he didn’t have a pimp.

Sebastian smiled then and Tony fought to stave off a shudder at the predatory look that crossed the man’s face. “Well then – why don’t you come visit with us a while? It would be a good opportunity for you to see how we operate – and where Kyle lives.”

Tony was shaking his head before Sebastian finished talking. “Oh, I couldn’t do that,” he protested softly, backing away slowly. Sebastian watched him and reached out, pulling Kyle close with a hand around the back of his neck. Kyle winced as Sebastian shook him slightly and Tony sighed. The threat was obvious: go with them or Kyle would get hurt again.

Tony shrugged and then smiled. “Sure, man. I’ll come.” He only hoped that his back-up was close enough to follow them and that they were listening to the wire. There was no way he wanted to go inside Sebastian’s place wherever that was. When they stopped, he planned on running and someone had better be close by to pick him up.

No one was there when the car stopped. They were in a parking lot and, when Tony stepped from the car, Sebastian smiled tightly and pulled Kyle out, wrapping his hand around the young man’s throat possessively. Tony looked around. The lot was fenced in and barbed wire ran around the top of the chain-link.

“Come on, Honey,” Sebastian said quietly and Tony turned quickly. Sebastian was watching him and, as Tony turned, he opened his coat, exposing the gun he wore tucked into the front waistband of his jeans. “You’re not thinking of leaving before we have our little talk are you?”

Tony licked his suddenly dry lips and put his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. He smiled a little and shrugged. “Can’t blame a man, can you? You’re a little intimidating.”

Sebastian snorted. “Come on, Honey.”

Tony followed, looking around for his back-up and praying they were close. The wire and the GPS locator in his shoe were all that was between him and the possibility of disappearing without a trace.

Tony tried lagging behind but Sebastian was having none of it. He literally propelled Tony into the house ahead of him and Kyle, making Tony stumble as he tried to catch his balance without landing on his ass. As he got his feet under him again, Sebastian was there and Tony shied away. Sebastian grabbed Tony by the arms and Tony struggled against his grasp. He pulled free desperately only to have Sebastian lash out at him. One meaty fist connected with Tony’s jaw, snapping his head to the side and sending him to his knees, hanging onto consciousness by a thread. As strong hands rolled him onto his back, Tony lost the fight and slipped into darkness.

~*~*~

It was light when Tony woke, naked and cold on a filthy mattress. He sat up quickly, clutching his head against the sudden pain that stabbed through it at his movement. The house was quiet. It took him a minute but then he saw it – a sturdy chain was wrapped around his ankle and locked with a padlock. He couldn’t help the frantic struggle that ensued as he pulled and tugged on the chain, bruising his hands and ankle but unable to loosen his fetter.

“So – Honey.”

Sebastian’s deep voice startled him and he looked up, his hands moving instinctively to cover his groin. Sebastian laughed. “I found your wire last night,” he said matter-of-factly. “Cop then?” When Tony didn’t react at all to the taunt, Sebastian reached out and grabbed Tony’s chin in one meaty fist, fingers tight enough to bruise.

Dark brown eyes stared into Tony’s, searching, demanding answers. Tony cleared his mind, not letting any fear show in his eyes. He’d been trained for this. Sebastian wouldn’t break him. After a long minute, the hand left his face and Tony stifled the urge to rub the ache away where Sebastian’s strong fingers had dug in hard enough to leave bruises.

“Cop,” Sebastian said as he nodded once as if just making up his mind on the matter. “So – cop. You got a name?”

Tony stared back, stone-faced.

“I can beat it out of you.” Sebastian smiled. “Or maybe I should beat it out of Kyle.”

Tony held his breath for a moment. The bastard probably would beat Kyle until Tony told him his name – or until he killed him. “S-sam,” Tony said softly. “M-my name is Sam.”

He didn’t see the hand coming, the impact rocking him backwards, pain exploding across his cheekbone. Seeing stars had always seemed like a cliché to him – until now. He shook his head slowly, moving his jaw just to make sure it wasn’t broken.

“The truth would be good.”

Tony looked away, debating lying again. Finally he shrugged mentally. What could this bastard possibly do with a name? “Tony,” he said quietly. “My name is Tony.”

Sebastian stared at him for a moment as if weighing the veracity of his statement. Finally he smiled and walked away. Tony stayed where he was, pulling his knees to his chest and resting his head on his bent legs. Turning his head slightly, Tony looked up at the tiny slit of a window set up near the ceiling. A pale light shone through it but Tony thought it didn’t really look like sunlight.

Tony sighed. He was well and truly screwed. All he could hope for now was that George, Bill, and Sam would be able to trace the GPS in his shoe – assuming that Sebastian hadn’t simply destroyed his clothing, of course.

~*~*~

“So, Cop Tony, why were you hanging around my boy?”

Sebastian was back and Tony blinked stupidly up at him, wondering briefly when he’d fallen asleep. When Sebastian slapped him across the face, Tony licked the blood off his lips and glared.

“Answer the fucking question,” Sebastian growled.

“Fuck you.” Tony looked away from Sebastian, turning his body and putting his back to his captor. It had been hours. If Sam, George, and Bill had a GPS signal, they would have been breaking down the door long before now. No, he was on his own – and there was no way he was playing nice with the murderer.

Tony tensed when he heard Sebastian move. He expected to be beaten. What he didn’t expect was for the big man to roll him onto his back and straddle his body, holding Tony down with his own heavy weight. One knee pressed Tony’s right arm to the mattress. His left arm was wrenched to the side, pulled away from his body. Tony’s struggles were futile. Sebastian was simply too strong and Tony went limp after a few minutes, panting lightly from the effort.

“You were undercover,” Sebastian said softly as one hand reached to pull something from his back pocket. It was a syringe and Tony felt a tendril of true fear when he saw it.

The moment of terror gave way quickly and Tony bucked and twisted under Sebastian, desperate to throw him off. A huge meaty hand wrapped around Tony’s throat, fingers digging into his skin cruelly, shutting off his air. After mere moments, Tony felt his lungs begin to ache and his vision started to black out. He could feel his body grow heavy and he knew he was going to die.

~*~*~

When Tony next woke it was to a sore throat and a feeling of lethargy that confused him – right up until Sebastian came back with a syringe in his hand and proceeded to inject it into Tony’s arm. While the action horrified him, Tony found himself unable to rouse himself enough to pull away. The feeling of lethargy intensified as the drug entered his body and his head lolled on the dirty mattress. He closed his eyes as Sebastian cradled his cheek in one huge hand and smiled down at him.

“You’re gonna make me a lot of money,” he said as tears fell from Tony’s eyes.

Tony was left alone for long periods of time, long enough for an ache to build in his muscles and joints, long enough for his body to begin to tremble. It was only then that Sebastian would return, holding up the syringe and waiting – almost as if waiting for Tony to beg for the drug, but Tony would turn away, burying his head in his arm and curling his aching body into a ball. Sebastian would wrestle an arm free and inject the drug into Tony’s system before leaving him alone again.

Each high brought an increasingly desperate low and Tony realized that he wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer. Whether or not he wanted to admit it, he needed whatever was in the syringe that Sebastian wielded. He hadn’t been given food or water in days it seemed and he’d been lying on the same dirty mattress for the same amount of time, relieving himself in a corner at the end of his chain when he’d had no other choice. His lips were cracked and bleeding, his muscles felt like they were on fire and he couldn’t stop shaking, his stomach cramped and his head ached, yet, when Sebastian returned, Tony turned away again.

The sound of Sebastian chuckling only made Tony tremble more. “You’re a stubborn bitch, aren’t you, boy? We’ll soon be taking care of that.” This time the injection burned its way through Tony’s body and he screamed in agony as he felt like his skin was on fire. He scratched at his skin with ragged fingernails and was only dimly aware of Sebastian pulling his hands away, tying them together with a rough piece of rope and fastening it to the wall above his head. His body arched and bowed off the bed as he thrashed, his muscles spasming almost uncontrollably.

“I can make it go away.” The voice was soft, deep, and compelling. “I can take all your pain away. Just ask.”

Tony screamed again as another wave of pain boiled through him. “Please,” he gasped. “Please make it stop.” He barely registered the pinprick of pain in his arm and then the familiar warm feeling of lethargy and euphoria flowed through his body. He melted back against the mattress, sighing softly.

“Better?”

Tony blinked up at Sebastian as the big man leaned forward and pressed his lips against Tony’s. His eyes closed.

~*~*~  
~*~*~

Tony shivered as he stood under the streetlight, hands thrust into his pockets. He didn’t even know if he was in Yuma anymore and there was no way he was going to ask the other streetwalkers. He’d learned his lesson the hard way, having been forced to watch as Sebastian beat Kyle to death and then tossed him out like so much trash – and all because he had talked to Tony, tried to help him. It was warm out but then the temperature wasn’t why Tony was shivering. Sebastian had gotten him hooked on drugs and now Tony was expected to pay for them – by turning tricks. If he didn’t make enough money – he didn’t get his fix, or he got just enough to get him on his feet and back out onto the street. He was riding the ragged edge of a crash and didn’t have enough money in his pocket to get high. He needed at least one more good one; one more john who would pay full price and, hopefully, not leave him bleeding when he was finished.

With a sigh Tony looked around at the nearly deserted streets. He didn’t see Sebastian’s car but that didn’t mean he wasn’t there, watching and waiting for Tony to screw up so he could punish him for it. Sure, he could run – he could try anyway. But where would he go? Who would he call to get him out of this hell-hole that was his life now? His mind immediately went to his former boss, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, and he snorted mentally. Yeah, like he could make that call. ‘Hello, Jethro. It’s me, Tony. I’m a whore now and I’m a bit sick of it all. Do you think you could come pick me up? I’m not quite sure where here is, though…’ That would go over well, he thought wryly. He was damaged goods now, not strong enough to stand up to the latest bully, letting himself get hooked on god only knew what drug and then whoring himself out to pay for yet one more fix. Jethro wouldn’t want to save him. No one would.

Just then a car pulled up to the curb, the side window sliding down slowly. Tony pasted a sultry smile on his face, hooked his thumbs in his belt loops and approached the car, swinging his hips as he glided forward.

The light was falling wrong, Tony realized as he approached the car, and he couldn’t see the person behind the wheel. That creeped him out a little bit. He liked to take a look at the man who’d be fucking him – before he got to the car. If he was too creepy, Tony could turn away and things wouldn’t get too heated. However, once he was hanging onto the door of the car and leaning in so they could talk, it was too late to back out gracefully. By that point, the john thought he already owned him and if he walked away, the john could get violent – or, at the very least, mouthy.

But who was he kidding? He was desperate and the night wasn’t getting any younger. It was either this guy or going without tonight, probably along with a good beating for not making his quota. No, he’d do this one. Looks didn’t really matter since he wouldn’t be looking at the man while he fucked him. As long as he didn’t look like an axe murderer Tony was going to crawl into that car and take money for sex – and, he supposed there would come a day when even that one limit of his wouldn’t matter. Axe murderer or not, Tony was getting close to the edge of need that couldn’t be abated without the drug that Sebastian held over him.

~*~*~

Eight weeks. Eight weeks since Tony had walked out, going on ‘vacation’ with his buddies. Three weeks later and it was a ‘family emergency’. Three weeks after that, and it was yet another extension for a ‘personal matter’. None of the excuses had sat well with Gibbs yet the director had seemed very glib when he told Jethro that he’d approved each and every one of Tony’s time off extensions. Jethro had yet to speak to Tony and, when he called his cell, he found out that not only was it not being answered, the voice mail was full as well. Tony never went anywhere without his cell and he’d never leave voicemail not listened to. Tony was a technology geek, even if he couldn’t type for shit. Gadgets were his ‘thing’ and email, voicemail, and texting were his gods. Something was seriously wrong.

A few hundred pulled strings and a handful of favors called in had gotten Gibbs the first concrete information on Tony in almost two months. The manifest of a heavy transport heading to Yuma had listed one NCIS Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo (passenger). Assuming Tony was still working for NCIS, Gibbs contacted the nearest base of operations, San Diego.

Gibbs’ phone had rung not two minutes after he hung up from talking to the San Diego office and getting nowhere. According to them, there was no operation in Yuma and they had never heard of Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. Gibbs’ call was a summons to Director Vance’s office.

“Word travels fast,” he commented dryly as he stared down the director. Vance had immediately berated him for calling the San Diego office to inquire about DiNozzo. At least the director hadn’t bothered to lie to him about DiNozzo going under cover for the San Diego office. What he had lied about, however, was that Tony was okay. Something in Vance’s eyes, the way he’d looked away from Jethro for just a moment, telegraphed his insincerity and confirmed Jethro’s fears. Tony was in trouble and it looked like Jethro was on his own to find him.

Vance told Jethro that Tony was just finishing up an op and to let it go. He’d be home in a few weeks at the most.

“Care to tell me where this op is taking place?” Jethro asked evenly.

“No,” Vance answered. “It’s on a need to know basis – and you don’t need to know.”

Jethro sighed softly. “Look,” he said after a moment, “Tony is mine. He’s a member of my team. I won’t put the op in jeopardy but I need to know where he is. It will put my mind at ease if nothing else.” His voice was sincere and Jethro hoped that Vance bought it. He needed to know where Tony was – or where he was supposed to be. His gut was telling him that Tony was in trouble and he wouldn’t rest until he found him.

Vance stared at him for another minute before sighing loudly and looking away. “Yuma,” Vance said as he shuffled the papers on his desk.

“Thank you, Director,” Jethro said evenly, turning to leave the office.

“Leave it be, Gibbs. I will not tolerate any interference from your team.”

Jethro’s steps faltered only a little at those words and he didn’t grace the comment with an answer. Vance was using Tony again. It had been bad enough when Jenny had done it, using Tony for undercover assignments that had nearly broken the younger man. He’d slowly come back from the whole Jeanne fiasco apparently only to be thrust into the frying pan again with yet another undercover assignment.

Stopping only long enough to tell McGee to start discreetly looking for Tony, Jethro continued through the bullpen and down to the lab where Abby was talking to a picture of Tony again.

“Abby,” Gibbs said softly, wrapping his arms around the young woman as she cried silent tears.

“Something has happened to him and you can’t tell me that I’m crazy, Gibbs. I feel it.”

Gibbs nodded. “I feel it too, Abs. I’ve got a lead but we need to be discreet.”

Abby looked up at him, wiping the moisture from her face with the backs of her hands. “I can do discreet,” she said firmly.

“Yuma.”

Abby frowned. “Yuma? That’s all you’ve got?”

Gibbs nodded. “It was an undercover assignment – but the San Diego office denies any knowledge of him being there. I think there’s something –“

“Hinky about the whole thing,” Abby finished for him.

Gibbs nodded. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Definitely hinky.”

Abby beamed. “So go, shoo. I’ve got work to do.”

~*~*~

Pasting a smile on his face, Tony leaned into the window of the car. “Hi, looking for—?” His breath caught in his throat as he stared into all too familiar blue eyes.

“Hey, Tony, fancy meeting you here.”

Tony stilled, shock tearing through him. He wanted to run, to get away from the censure he was sure he could see in those piercing eyes. Pushing away from the car, Tony back-peddled quickly, looking around for any sign that Sebastian had seen what had happened. This was bad. This was so very bad. Suddenly Tony heard a car door open and he looked up to see Gibbs stalking toward him. He looked around frantically, shaking his head.

“Y-you have to l-leave,” he stammered as Gibbs got closer.

“Why, Tony? What’s happened to you?”

“J-just go, Boss. P-please,” Tony begged softly, his arms wrapping around his torso.

“We need to talk,” Jethro said.

“N-no,” Tony whispered. “I c-can’t –“

Jethro reached out and took hold of Tony’s elbow.

“What’s going on here?”

Sebastian’s deep growl startled Tony and he turned quickly, stumbling in his haste. He was shaking openly now.

“N-nothing, Sebastian,” Tony said quickly.

Sebastian glared at Gibbs. “This asshole bothering you, Honey?”

Tony shook his head quickly. “N-no, he just startled me. He looks like someone I used to know is all.” Tony pressed himself into the curve of Sebastian’s arms, rubbing back against his erection in hopes of distracting him from Gibbs.

Gibbs put his hands up. “I’m not looking for any trouble here,” he said easily, backing away. “Just looking for a little fun and I thought your boy was selling.”

Sebastian grinned. “Yeah? Well, come back tomorrow then. He’s off duty for the night.”

Gibbs grinned. “I’ll be sure to do that.”

Tony watched Gibbs walk back to his car, wincing as Sebastian’s embrace became painful.

“You stupid fuck,” Sebastian growled into his ear as he wrapped one hand around Tony’s throat. “That one could have paid big.” He slapped Tony hard, rocking him back and leaving a red handprint on his cheek.

Tony’s hand went to his face and he looked to where Gibbs’ car had been parked, but the curbside was empty.

~*~*~

It was two days before Gibbs saw Tony again and when he did it was all he could do to keep his temper in check. Tony’s lip was split, he had a black eye that someone had unsuccessfully tried to cover with makeup, and he moved like he had cracked ribs. He watched Tony from down the block, his car sitting in the shadows far from any street light. He also watched the immediate area, looking for the pimp’s car. Sebastian had dropped Tony on the corner, tearing away from the curb with a shouted curse.

Gibbs had watched Tony as he stared after the car, his tenseness evaporating slowly as the taillights of the car disappeared around a corner a couple of blocks up. After that, Tony had leaned against the building, obviously resting but keeping an eye on the light traffic as well. When he saw a car approaching his corner slowly he would push away from the building and saunter forward, being sure to keep to the pool of light shed by the street lamp. If the vehicle stopped, then Tony would sashay forward, hips swaying, to lean into the open window.

Twice since he’d been watching, Tony got into the car. Both times Gibbs had wanted to follow, but he’d seen Sebastian come back, parking not too far from where Gibbs sat watching. All he wanted to do was to snatch Tony from off the street, but he knew he couldn’t get to him with his pimp watching and he would just put Tony in danger if he tried.

Even as careful as Gibbs was, he was spotted when Sebastian got back with Tony after his second pick-up of the evening. Their eyes met briefly and then Sebastian sped away. Gibbs reached to start his car but the delay had been too long and he lost them. Gibbs pulled over after a couple of blocks, cursing his own stupidity.

He could try the local authorities but, since he wasn’t even supposed to be working this case, and his director denied that there even was a case, he didn’t think he’d get much help from that sector. He just hoped that Sebastian didn’t run and take Tony with him. It would take time to track him down again – time he wasn’t sure Tony had.

~*~*~

It was another month before Gibbs saw Tony again. During that time he worked the case in every spare minute he had. After two weeks, Vance finally admitted that Tony had gone missing while on an undercover op. He denied Gibbs’ request to work the case and said he had another office working on it. Gibbs knew, however, that Tony wouldn’t be a priority to anyone else but his own team.

Ziva and McGee worked the case as well. Gibbs had pulled them in as soon as he returned from Yuma, giving them all the information he had gathered. Then he pulled in a few favors with the FBI and got a BOLO released on Sebastian’s vehicle. Fornell owed him more than a few favors and Gibbs thought he’d actually looked concerned for Tony as well when they had talked.

Sebastian’s vehicle was traced to Dallas, Texas where he was stopped for a routine traffic violation and held for questioning pending the arrival of the FBI. Gibbs was in the observation room when he was finally interrogated by a friend of Fornell’s – an FBI agent of some wondrous skill as Gibbs discovered upon watching the interrogation. As much as he’d like to question Sebastian himself, he knew that the man would only clam up as to Tony’s whereabouts as soon as he recognized him. No, as much as it pained him, Gibbs knew he had to stay out of this one.

Hours later Sebastian finally admitted to his pimping past but he was adamant that he had no current whores working for him. With a sinking feeling, Gibbs realized the man was telling the truth. So, the question remained: where was Tony?

Gibbs rapped impatiently on the glass of the observation booth, smirking when Sebastian raised his eyes to stare at the blank mirrored surface. He needed to talk to Agent Brooks. It was time to change the questions. They had to find Tony.

~*~*~

The lazily spinning blades of the ceiling fan mesmerized him. Tony lay on a soft bed, staring up at the white blades as they rotated slowly, stirring the breeze. He was naked, one hand resting on his abdomen. As the air moved over his body he sighed softly and closed his eyes. It had become a familiar sensation to him and he didn’t even notice the chain wrapped around his ankle now – at least not until he needed to get out of bed and getting out of bed was only allowed in the morning when he was cleaned and bathed and when he needed to relieve himself. That last was allowed a maximum of twice per day.

The drugs seemed to have slowed his body processes down and he wasn’t given much in the way of sustenance so he’d learned to live with twice a day. The first few days had been hell and he’d wet the bed once. The beating he’d received from that one accident had been more than enough to give him the incentive to be more careful and to learn to wait, holding his urine until his stomach ached.

The drugs in this place were stronger than what he’d become used to with Sebastian and he couldn’t find it in himself to regret his leaving even if he’d been petrified at first. He hadn’t noticed, but Sebastian had told him that the “silver-haired man” had been watching him that last night. He’d known immediately who it was and Sebastian had suspected that Tony wasn’t telling him the whole truth but Sebastian had been in a hurry to get out of town and hadn’t pressed the issue like Tony had feared. Tony guessed that getting taken down for kidnapping a federal agent was something that Sebastian wasn’t in a hurry to experience. They had packed up and moved out that very night.

Sebastian had injected Tony with more drugs and then helped him to the car, buckling his seatbelt and hobbling his ankles before slipping in behind the wheel and driving out of town. Tony had watched the scenery go by, too out of it to even turn around to watch Yuma disappear into the distance.

The trip took two days. Two days during which Sebastian kept Tony drugged pretty heavily and, when Tony wasn’t watching the scrubland fly past the window he was sleeping. When they finally reached their destination – wherever that was – Sebastian helped him out of the car, Tony leaning heavily on him, and walked him into this new place. Sebastian had called it his new home and Tony had tried to protest but was too weak to put up more than a token resistance to being led away, stripped naked, washed, and put to bed.

When he awoke, he was chained to the bed, staring up at the same ceiling fan he was looking at now. A large garishly dressed and coiffed lady had entered the room a few minutes later and had set about explaining the rules to him. “Here” was apparently a brothel and he’d been sold to them.

Tony had tried fighting back when he’d first come to this place. But apparently brothel whores brought in more money than streetwalkers because the drugs were much better here and he was soon chemically subdued. If Tony had to pick one thing that was good about the brothel it would be that the johns were cleaner. Life on the streets had been rough. The brothel was luxury compared to what he’d had with Sebastian. He knew that Mama was babying him, letting him “get used to the place”, and he could only hope the preferential treatment would continue a while longer.

As Tony lay looking up at the rotating ceiling fan, he picked at the bandages wrapped around his wrists. His first night in the brothel he’d tried to kill himself, making only superficial cuts with the shattered pieces of mirror before he was restrained. Now he was chained to the bed and someone had to accompany him to the toilet. Life sucked – and then there were more drugs so he didn’t have to deal with it.

~*~*~

“A brothel?” McGee’s voice held a note of incredulity. “You’re sure, Boss?”

Gibbs ran a hand over his face. “Yeah,” he said softly, wishing that he didn’t have to tell anyone where Tony was. It would be hard enough for Tony to come back from this without him worrying about what everyone was thinking of him.

“Wow, Boss. I – I don’t know what to say.”

“Just tell me you have the information I asked for.”

Gibbs could almost hear McGee nod and he smiled as he shifted his cell phone to his other ear. He was leaning against the wall of the hallway outside the FBI offices and he longed for a chair – for a ten minute nap, anything to wake him up and give him the energy he was going to need to pull Tony out of the brothel. The raid was taking place in an hour and he needed McGee to tell him where to take Tony once he was out of there.

He’d seen Tony’s condition back in Yuma and could only assume that his situation hadn’t gotten any better. In Yuma, Tony had been at least twenty pounds under his normal weight. He was shaking, hurting, and Gibbs knew he’d been taking drugs. Just how his addiction had started wasn’t something Gibbs liked to think about. He and Tony had talked about addiction before – theoretically, of course – and Tony had confided in him about his mother’s alcohol addiction and his fear of becoming like her. As much as Tony bragged about his partying life, Gibbs knew that he never drank to excess and, more often than not, was the designated driver whenever he went out with friends. He’d also never tried drugs for the same reason – fear of having inherited the addictive personality traits of his mother. Hell, getting Tony to take Tylenol was hard; getting him to take painkillers for an injury was impossible. Gibbs thought Tony must be hurting almost as much from the ache of perceived failure as from the addiction itself. Recovery would be a long tough road – and he planned to be at Tony’s side every step of the way.

Gibbs was roused from his musings by McGee’s announcement that he’d “found something”. Gibbs listened, thinking that the facility sounded like it might just work – if he could safely transport Tony there.

“Ziva is working on transport now, Boss,” McGee said, almost as if reading Gibbs’ mind. “We’ll let you know as soon as we get things lined up.”

“It better be soon, McGee,” Gibbs said as he pushed away from the wall. He watched as Agent Brooks walked toward him.

“We’re ready, Agent Gibbs,” the young agent said. “We’ve got Dallas PD helping us on this one.”

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. “Interagency cooperation, Agent Brooks? What will your superiors think?”

Agent Brooks smiled. “It’s not completely unheard of,” he said easily. “Besides, if this goes down like I hope it will, we’ll have too many people to deal with on our own – both those in need of medical help and those who just need to be locked up.”

Gibbs nodded curtly. “Let me finish this call and I’ll be ready to go.”

“No hurry. We’re heading out in ten.”

Gibbs watched the young man walk away before putting the cell phone to his ear again. “You got that, McGee?” he asked tersely.

“Got it, Boss. We’ll have everything set up by the time you get Tony.”

“You’d better.” Gibbs snapped his cell phone shut and sighed softly. There were so many things that could go wrong.

~*~*~

The first Tony knew something was wrong was when he heard shouting and people running in the hallway. He heard a loud bang and then someone screamed. So many sounds, all jumbled together, and too many for his muddled brain to make sense of. Mama had just recently given him his afternoon dose of whatever they were drugging him with and he was floating. He should be unconcerned about anything but the loud sounds were making him uneasy.

The sounds got progressively louder and closer to where Tony lay huddled on his bed. He closed his eyes, swallowing a taste of bile. His stomach fluttered nervously and then rumbled quietly. He hadn’t had anything to eat since breakfast and he hadn’t been given very much; a toasted bagel and a glass of orange juice. At the time it had tasted like a feast – but hours later his stomach was empty and the stress of the unknown was making it upset.

A particularly loud bang sounded just outside Tony’s door and he buried his face in his pillow, stifling the scream that rose in his throat. Something bad was happening out there and if he wasn’t mistaken, it would be happening inside his room very soon. From the sounds of things, someone or more than one someone was kicking in the doors along the hallway – and every so often he heard what sounded like gunshots. He knew he was locked in, even with the chain at his ankle, but this proved to him that he wasn’t the only one locked up. It seemed that no one was trusted to play whore for Mama without running.

He was pretty sure he wasn’t going to live through this, chained up as he was like a dog and left to die at the hands of some madman. Tony rolled his head to one side, looking around his almost barren room. There was no place to run to, even if he hadn’t been chained to the bed, and no place to hide. The bed sat high, up off the floor with no bed ruffle to hide under. It was in the middle of a wall, jutting out into the room. He had no blankets to pull up over his nakedness, just a single pillow and the fitted sheet he lay on.

When it came, it was almost anti-climactic. There was a voice outside the door, a call to ‘stand ready’, and then his door was kicked in. Tony flinched, closing his eyes and rolling his head away from the men streaming into his room.

“This the one?” someone asked.

“Yeah, this is him,” a rough voice answered.

Something in that voice pulled at him and Tony rolled to face whatever was coming his way. Surprisingly, he found himself looking into very familiar blue eyes.

A hand reached out and fingers combed gently through his hair, brushing the strands out of his face. “Hey, Tony. You’re okay now. I’m taking you away from here.”

Tony licked his dry lips. “G-Gibbs?” he asked, his voice rough.

Gibbs smiled sadly and Tony wondered at the look. “Yeah, Tony. It’s me.”

Tony sighed and closed his eyes. “Leave me,” he whispered. “’m not worth saving.”

Gibbs tapped Tony on the head, startling him enough that he opened his eyes again. “You’re worth everything, Tony. Don’t you forget that.”

Tony felt tears well up in his eyes and he turned his head away from the man running his fingers through his hair again. It felt so good to be touched with gentleness again. It had been such a long time since anyone had touched him without hurting him.

And then hands touched his foot and he jerked away from the touch, cowering and pulling his foot up as far as he could, and stretching the chain to its full length.

“Jesus,” Gibbs said softly and Tony turned his face away, ashamed of his boss seeing him like this. He’d screwed up so badly this time. “Shh, Tony. It’s okay. We’re just going to cut this chain off, okay? Just look at me. Don’t pay any attention to anything but me.”

Tony opened his eyes slowly. The room spun for a moment and he blinked slowly a couple of times before trying to focus his gaze on Gibbs again. Gibbs smiled when Tony finally managed to make eye contact again and then Tony saw him nod once.

“Hold still, Tony. They’re just going to cut through the lock so we can get the chain off.”

“Um,” a new voice said uneasily, “we actually need some pictures – crime scene and all.”

Gibbs turned his gaze up to the tall man standing by the bed. He sighed loudly and turned his gaze back to Tony again. “Tony – we need to do this. I’m sorry.”

Tony was shaking his head. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t lay here – naked and chained, while people – strangers, took pictures of him. He pulled on the chain, struggling feebly to get away.

“Tony,” Gibbs said, grasping Tony’s arms in a strong grip. “Look at me,” he commanded. “Tony, stop. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

Tony was getting tired, his fear-fueled flailing using up what little energy stores he had. After a minute, he stilled, closing his eyes and turning his head away. Flashes of light shone through his closed lids and a tear ran down the side of his face.

After an interminable time, he felt a hand touch him again. He flinched instinctively and Gibbs murmured his apologies. Tony reached out blindly and grasped Gibbs’ hand.

“We’re going to cut that chain now.”

Gibbs gripped Tony’s hand tighter. “Focus on me, Tony,” he said softly, bending close enough that Tony could feel Gibbs’ breath on his neck. “They’re going to cut the lock off the chain at your ankle.”

Tony whimpered when he felt hands on his foot and leg and he had to fight his instincts to pull away. The chain tightened slightly before falling away and Tony stilled, almost afraid to move for fear that it was all an hallucination. When a soft weight fell on him, he cried out and opened his eyes, looking down in confusion.

It was a blanket; a white blanket. He couldn’t believe anyone would take the time or care enough to cover his body.

Gibbs smiled at him. “Thought you might like to be covered,” he said easily as he straightened the blanket slightly.

Tony lifted a hand to wipe away tears. “Th-thank you,” he said softly.

“You ready to go?”

Tony clutched the blanket tightly. “G-go?” Tony asked as he began to shake his head slowly, rolling it against the pillow. He didn’t want to go anywhere. He didn’t deserve to be saved. He didn’t want people looking at him with pity in their eyes. It would be better if he was left here. Maybe Mama would give him too much of the drug and he wouldn’t have to worry about anything any more.

“Tony?”

Tony rolled his head and peered blearily at Gibbs. So much had happened and he was so tired.

“We’re going to move you now.”

Tony started to tremble. “N-no… please,” he whispered brokenly.

“I’m going to take you someplace safe, Tony – but, first you have to be checked out by a doctor.”

Tony shook his head. “N-no!” He struggled, trying to push the blanket off and sit up. If he could just get up, he could leave – go away and curl up someplace far away from everyone.

“Stop, Tony,” Jethro said sternly. Tony stilled and Jethro petted his hair again. “I’m going to make sure you’re safe. I won’t leave you.” Jethro turned then and Tony saw a gurney behind him. At Jethro’s nod, two men stepped forward.

Tony closed his eyes and gripped the blanket tightly as the men lifted him onto the gurney. Jethro held his hand as the men strapped him in snugly and then lifted the stretcher. He was so weak, and so tired…

~*~*~

Tony woke when the stretcher was pulled from the back of the ambulance. He was still disoriented from the injection Mama had given him earlier but, already, he could feel his body begin to want more. A quick squeeze to his hand told him that Gibbs hadn’t left him.

“Gibbs,” he croaked softly.

“Yeah, Tony?” Gibbs said as he leaned over the stretcher.

“D-don’t leave me.”

Gibbs smiled and nodded. “Not going anywhere.”

Tony closed his eyes. Everything hurt. The light was too bright, there were too many people – all talking, shouting. Tony grasped Gibbs’ hand tighter. He wanted nothing more than to not be here, but Gibbs had promised him that he wouldn’t have to stay. A quick check over and he’d be out of there. Please, let it be quick.

As with most big city Emergency Departments, quick was a relative term. There had been quite a few people transported from the illegal brothel, all of them in need of some kind of care and attention. Tony was put into a bed and seemingly forgotten about. Only Gibbs’ presence kept him somewhat calm – and he could tell that Gibbs wanted nothing more than to storm out to the main desk and chew someone out for making them wait. Only Tony needing him at his side kept Gibbs right where he was. Tony alternately hated himself for needing Gibbs at his side and deciding it was good he was so needy – so Gibbs wouldn’t kill anyone for making them wait so long.

Tony could feel the tremors creep their way up his body. He tried ignoring them, willing them away, and tensing his muscles to lessen their appearance. Nothing worked. By the time the first whimper passed his lips, his stomach was cramping, his muscles ached and his head was pounding.

“Tony?” It was Gibbs.

Tony cracked open his eyes to find Gibbs leaning over the stretcher that Tony lay on, a thin sheet his only covering.

“I n-need –,” Tony said, his teeth chattering.

“Blanket?” Gibbs asked as he turned to pull a blanket from under the cupboard. He laid the blanket gently over Tony’s shivering body and smiled down at him. “Better?”

Tony shook his head slowly. “N-not r-really what I need, Boss,” Tony said quietly. He groaned as another wave of nausea and stomach pain hit him. “N-need the sh-shot, Boss.” Tony looked away from Gibbs as he said that last, afraid to see the disgust in Gibbs’ eyes as he realized just what Tony had become. He was surprised, therefore, when he felt gentle fingers card through his hair.

“It’s okay, Tony. I’m going to get you some help. Will you be okay for a couple of minutes?”

Tony clung to Gibbs’ hand, hating that he needed that contact so desperately but unable to let go. If Gibbs walked away he’d be lost again and he didn’t think he could bear that again. With a sigh, Tony let go of Gibbs’ hand and closed his eyes. “Y-you don’t n-need to stay with me, Boss.”

“Look at me, Tony,” Gibbs said, the tone of his voice brooking no argument.

Tony opened his eyes slowly, wincing as the bright light stabbed through him, sending shards of pain into his brain. Gibbs seemed to notice his growing discomfort because he turned away, located a light switch, and lowered the lights. Tony sighed softly as the sharp pain receded somewhat.

Gibbs then leaned over the stretcher again and smiled down at Tony. “I’m not leaving you, Tony. I’m just going out to the desk to see if I can get someone in here to see you. If you watch, you will still be able to see me.” Gibbs paused. “I won’t leave you, Tony. Understand?”

Tony nodded, understanding the words but having trouble believing them. He rolled up on one side carefully, stifling a groan at the pain that shot through his body. Gibbs was walking away from him, a certain menacing look about him that Tony knew well. As Gibbs advanced on the nurses’ station, Tony watched the people part for him as if sensing his danger. He couldn’t hear the words but the set of Gibbs’ shoulders told him the conversation wasn’t pleasant. The woman behind the desk looked about ready to cry when a man in a white lab coat stepped up beside Gibbs.

Gibbs turned toward Tony briefly as if checking to see that he was still where he’d left him and Tony felt a wave of relief wash over him. Gibbs hadn’t forgotten him. He was keeping his word. After a short conversation, Gibbs and the doctor walked toward Tony. He watched them coming, fear filling his belly. Gibbs wouldn’t hurt him – and he wouldn’t let anyone else hurt him again. He had to believe that because, frankly, he was too weak to get out of harm’s way on his own – and Gibbs said he would take care of him. Gibbs might be a bastard, but he was truthful and trustworthy.

The doctor’s hands were cold but Tony lay completely still while he examined him. His skin crawled with yet another man’s hands on his body but he’d been trained well and he wouldn’t flinch away no matter how much he wanted to. If he was good maybe, just maybe he’d get relief from the pain that permeated his entire body.

~*~*~

Gibbs could see how much it cost Tony to allow the doctor to touch him. He’d seen first hand what Tony had been put through and yet he didn’t even flinch at the stranger’s hands on his body. If he wasn’t giving Tony support, Gibbs would have walked out of the Emergency Department and vented his rage to the skies. As it was, he needed to keep calm for Tony’s sake. In his frame of mind, Tony would probably think he was disgusted with him and there was no way he was going to do that to Tony. The truth was, he was far from disgusted with Tony. Hell, he’d been lusting after him since he’d first hired him away from Baltimore P.D. Thing was, Tony portrayed himself as the preeminent fratboy, always playing the field, drinking with his buddies – and Gibbs was old enough to want more out of life. It wasn’t until recently that Gibbs realized Tony had been playing them all.

When Tony had disappeared, Gibbs had started poking into his personal life and what he’d found had sent him reeling. Tony lived alone – that much was true. He also took care of the people in his building. He had a trust fund worth millions and yet lived in a lower-middle income apartment building. His neighbors, most of whom were elderly, talked about him as if he were a saint. Apparently he stayed in most nights, seeing the occasional woman but nothing that went beyond the first or second date.

Gibbs had talked to his neighbors – and then he’d gone looking for more because Tony was a young man and staying in every night wasn’t in character. He’d found a business card in his top desk drawer – something little and innocuous, but it set Gibbs’ internal alarms off. He called the number on the card and wound up talking to someone named Carlos.

Carlos was the proprietor of a private club in DC called The Stable. Turned out, The Stable was a gay club. Gibbs had visited, wanting to see first-hand just what the club was about. On the surface, the club was pretty tame, but The Stable also had a darker side, one Carlos was reluctant to show him until he insisted that he needed to see everything Tony was involved in at the club.

The dungeon was behind a locked door. A long staircase led down into a setup out of something Gibbs hadn’t seen since the marines and then only a couple of times. Sure, he’d been interested then, but he’d settled down with a wife and then another and… The lifestyle hadn’t fit anymore. When he’d become single again he’d been too leery of getting into any relationship so had put his desires on the back burner, making superficial contacts, one night stands of the distinctly feminine variety. He’d thought about looking into the scene again, but had decided he was too old and didn’t think he was up to handling the rejection.

And then he’d hired Anthony DiNozzo and he’d watched over him for five years, lusting after him in secret – allowing his fantasies out only after a good dose of bourbon. It was then that he could imagine Tony spread out before him, sometimes tied, sometimes cuffed, always begging him to fuck him already. On those nights, Gibbs usually woke under his boat, covered with sawdust and with a wet, sticky spot in his shorts. A cold shower would set him right again and he’d fall into bed to sleep another hour or, if he was lucky, two and then he was up and off to work again, forced to pretend that nothing was wrong.

He’d lived with stamping on his desires for a long time – and, to think, Tony might have been interested and he’d never known it. What an ass he’d been.

A tightening of the grip on his hand brought Gibbs’ focus back to Tony who had started to tremble and was looking up at him with fear-filled eyes.

“What is it, Tony?” Gibbs leaned forward.

“I need to do an internal exam, Agent Gibbs,” the doctor said firmly, tearing Gibbs’ attention away from Tony.

“Tony?” Gibbs looked down at Tony again.

“I --- I c-can’t,” Tony whispered. “P-please –”

Gibbs looked at the doctor. “Doc? Is this really necessary?”

The doctor sighed softly and nodded. “I know he’s been through a rough time, Agent Gibbs, but I need to check and make sure he’s not torn. I will be as quick and gentle as possible.”

Tony gasped and clutched Gibbs’ hand harder. Gibbs could see him shaking now.

“Tony, are you in pain?”

Tony closed his eyes and tears trickled down his face. He nodded.

“Doc?”

The doctor shook his head. “He’s going through withdrawal. It’s only going to get worse. Once I get him checked out we’ll get him admitted and then –”

“No.”

The doctor raised his eyebrows. “No? You don’t understand.”

“No, you don’t understand. I am taking Tony with me – tonight. Give him whatever you need to give him but get him ready to travel.”

The doctor stared, slowly shaking his head. “I’m not sure –”

Gibbs sighed. “Look, doc. I know they got him addicted to something and I’ve got a place all lined up for him, but he has to be able to travel. I’ve got medical clearance for him to travel by stretcher but I can’t have him waking up mid-flight and freaking out, okay?”

The doctor sighed again, loudly. “Okay, let me see the papers and I’ll see what I can do.”

Gibbs handed over the papers and waited, watching as the doctor read the admission papers and flight information. He breathed a sigh of relief when the doctor nodded.

“Briarwood, huh?” the doctor said as he handed the papers back to Gibbs. “I’m impressed. It’s the best for this kind of thing – and they deal with a lot of law enforcement people. He’ll be in good hands.”

“Thank you. Now – about getting him ready for travel?” Gibbs hesitated for just a moment. “And can you examine him after you sedate him for the flight?”

The doctor nodded and moved off, stopping to talk to a nurse and, hopefully ordering a sedative for Tony. Within minutes the nurse was at Tony’s bedside, injecting ‘something to help you relax’ into his IV. Gibbs smiled down at Tony who was looking up at him wearily.

“Rest, Tony. Everything will be fine.”

“Taking me away f-from here?”

Gibbs smiled and ruffled Tony’s hair gently. “Yeah, Tony. We’re going away from here. Going to get you some help.”

“Going home?” Tony asked, yawning widely.

Gibbs nodded and watched as Tony fell asleep. His muscles twitched and jumped even in sleep and frown lines marred his forehead, digging deep grooves between his eyes. Gibbs sighed and pulled up a stool, sitting at Tony’s side, holding his hand and waiting.

~*~*~

The flight was uneventful. Gibbs had pulled in a few favors and gotten the two of them on a priority flight. Riding with the military cargo was better than taking the risk of putting Tony on a commercial flight. They were just lucky that they didn’t have long to wait for one. The ER doctor had sedated Tony, done an internal exam, pronounced him fit to travel and then accompanied them to the airfield, getting Tony settled on board the plane before leaving him in Gibbs’ hands.

Gibbs settled in beside the slumbering man, took his hand and sat back. A couple of hours and they would be back on the east coast. An hour or so after that, Tony would be settled into the rehab facility and the hard work would begin. Tony was so fragile right now – scared and hurting. It tore him apart to see the usually vibrant agent reduced to this. Tony mumbled in his sleep and Gibbs tightened his grip, his thumb rubbing over the back of Tony’s lax hand.

~*~*~

Tony hated the hospital. He hated that he felt sick all the time and no one would help him. He hated the medication he was forced to take, even if it did take the immediate edge off his cravings. The pain still rippled through him, dulled a bit by the medication but eating into his muscles and joints. He had no appetite but was forced to eat with the threat of force-feeding if he didn’t comply. He was locked into his room at night and kept from it all day, directed to various therapy sessions and time in the day room where he thought he’d go mad staring at the walls while some tripe played on the television and the other patients (inmates to his mind) argued softly or played checkers or simply shuffled back and forth in their little paper slippers making soft scraping noises on the floor.

He also hated that Jethro wasn’t able to stay with him. Jethro. Gibbs. His boss – and his savior. Jethro had been with him when he’d woken in this place. He’d held his hand as he met with Dr. Beck for the first time. Jethro had smiled sadly when he’d been told of the visitation rules and, when the initial meeting was over, had leaned over and kissed Tony in the middle of his forehead, his fingers replacing his lips all too soon. And then he had straightened up and walked out with Dr. Beck. The door had closed behind them, the sound of the lock engaging loud in the quiet room. And Tony was alone.

They had restrained him the first night, unsure of how violent he would be as the drugs wore off and he began to go through withdrawal. The wide leather cuffs at his wrists and ankles were padded but he’d still tugged and pulled on them until his skin was red and irritated, slightly panicky at the thought of being tied and helpless -- again.

He’d only been left alone a few minutes, presumably while Gibbs was being walked out, and then the doctor came back and brought someone with him. His name was James and he was Tony’s sitter.

“D-don’t need a babysitter,” Tony grumbled, turning his face away from the two men and sniffing back tears.

“James isn’t a babysitter, Tony,” Dr. Beck said quietly. “He is here in case you need anything tonight.”

“N-need to use the bathroom,” Tony said sullenly.

“You’re catheterized, Tony. That’s why you feel like you need to urinate. If all goes well tonight, and I expect it to be, the restraints will be removed in the morning, and the catheter, and you’ll be allowed out with the other patients. Okay?”

Tony nodded, still looking away from the two men. The doctor excused himself and Tony heard James making himself comfortable. He’d been given more medication when he’d been admitted to the hospital and was soon sleeping.

~*~*~

The morning wasn’t what anyone had hoped. Tony had his first seizure at six o’clock. James had called for help and Tony’s room was soon filled with people. When he could open his eyes again, he looked up to see Dr. Beck leaning over his bed, a worried look on his face.

“Th-that bad, doc?” he quipped feebly.

At least it made the doctor smile. The worried look only made Tony’s stomach ache. The smile eased that somewhat and Tony wondered if he was developing an ulcer on top of everything else.

“How are you doing?” Dr. Beck asked.

Tony licked his lips. “Not great,” he said carefully, taking shallow breaths against the pain roiling through his body again.

The doctor rejected his request for “something to help with the pain” and Tony bit back a whimper of distress. The day got progressively worse, his body feeling alternately on fire and cold as death. His muscles jumped and twitched uncontrollably and his teeth chattered. At some point he started vomiting. He begged for drugs. He begged for death. When a gentle hand bathed his face with a cool cloth he turned away and cried.

Jethro was allowed to visit two days later. Tony was out of his restraints but still too weak to get out of bed on his own. When he needed to use the bathroom, James or Edward, another sitter, helped him, steadying him on his trembling legs and guiding him into the bathroom, sitting him on the toilet and standing watch. Tony was too sick, too weak to be mortified.

Tony lay in bed and listened to Jethro talk about normal day to day things such as working on his boat and painting his living room. He wondered briefly about the rest of the team but dismissed them from his mind. They wouldn’t want to see him now – not damaged like he was. And he didn’t want to see them. It hurt too much to think of the time before his last assignment, much less relive it through the pity in his teammates’ eyes.

Jethro came every three days – regular as clockwork as his Gran would say and, when he came for the second time, Tony was able to sit in a chair and listen to Gibbs as he talked. It wasn’t until hours later, when Gibbs had gone home that Tony realized he hadn’t mentioned NCIS once; not a mention of Abby or Tim or Ziva, not a mention of an ongoing case or Ducky or the director. Nothing at all.

It wasn’t for another three weeks that Tony remembered to ask about the lapse.

~*~*~

Gibbs had been dreading the question, hoping Tony didn’t notice the fact that he had plenty of time to visit when he was allowed and that he was doing a lot of work around his house.

“Jethro?”

Gibbs sighed softly, looking out of the window for a long minute before turning to look at Tony. He deserved the truth – but was he ready for it? Gibbs didn’t want to be responsible for setting Tony’s recovery back and his news wasn’t great.

Tony was looking at him when Gibbs turned back to face him. He smiled and Gibbs couldn’t help but return it, reaching out to take Tony’s hands in his own. They’d grown closer over the past few weeks. Tony seemed to need his touch and Gibbs found himself growing quite used to the sensory input as well. Now that he’d admitted to himself that he was in love with one Anthony DiNozzo, Gibbs found himself much more relaxed around him – and touch was a part of his expression of that.

It had been a rough few weeks for Tony. The withdrawal from heroin he had become addicted to hadn’t been pretty but Gibbs had been there for him every chance he’d been given. Hell, he’d have moved in if he had been allowed. But he understood why his visits had been limited. Dr. Beck had explained to Gibbs that Tony needed to learn to depend on himself again. He needed to learn that he was strong on his own and that he could get through his days, even when his drug cravings reared their ugly head – and they would. Addiction wasn’t easy to break – and habits were hard to kick. Tony had a long road of recovery ahead of him and Jethro had to let him take those tentative steps on his own, holding back but ready to lift him up if he fell.

“Jethro?”

Tony’s tentative inquiry brought Jethro out of his reverie. “Sorry, Tony. Just thinking.”

“Penny for your thoughts,” Tony quipped, making Gibbs smile. Tony might still be twenty pounds underweight but he was getting his bite back and that fact alone made everything he’d done worthwhile.

“Not worth a penny,” Gibbs said with a wink and was rewarded with a genuine DiNozzo grin. Gibbs found himself smiling back at Tony.

“You’re stalling,” Tony accused softly, breaking the mood of the moment.

Gibbs nodded. “Guilty,” he said easily. “I don’t have much of anything to say about NCIS because I don’t work there any longer.” There, he’d said it and now all there was to do was wait for Tony’s reaction.

Tony didn’t disappoint. “What do you mean you don’t work at NCIS anymore? Since when?”

Gibbs shrugged, his hands aching for a cup of coffee to wrap around. “About four weeks now – give or take a few days.”

Tony stilled and Gibbs could see him mull that information over in his mind. “Four weeks, huh?”

Gibbs nodded warily.

“So, right around the time that I came here,” Tony said evenly.

Gibbs nodded again. “Yes, I thought it time.”

Tony say back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. “You thought?”

Gibbs bit back a sigh. Tony wasn’t a stupid man. He’d already berated Gibbs for going behind the director’s back to find him. He’d thanked him as well. But that didn’t change the fact that Tony blamed himself for Gibbs’ censure at NCIS and now he knew that Gibbs was no longer working at NCIS. He was sure to blame himself for that as well.

Gibbs leaned forward, capturing Tony’s hand in his. “Tony, I would do everything all over again if need be. I regret nothing – except the agony you’ve been put through.”

“Oh, Jethro – you didn’t do this for me – did you?” Gibbs watched as Tony blinked back tears and then smiled tremulously. “Damn emotions. They’re running all over the place. I – I’m sorry.”

“Tony, I don’t regret anything I did. I left NCIS to spare Ziva and Tim my fate. And, it was time. I could no longer work for a man I hold no respect for.”

Tony nodded, seeming to contemplate the information that had been given. “So – what are you doing with your retirement?”

Gibbs smiled and sat back. “Finishing my boat for one thing. I want her in the water by Spring. I’m also doing some repairs around the house. I haven’t decided if I want to sell her yet – or if I’ll use her as an off-season base.”

Tony had gotten quiet and looked pensive.

“I’d like you to join me, Tony,” Gibbs said quietly, watching Tony for any reaction.

Tony looked up. “What?”

Gibbs smiled. “When you get out of this place. When you’re ready. I’d be honored if you would join me in my retirement.” He paused, watching Tony for any reaction. Right now the younger man looked stunned. “Tony, I love you and I would like for you to sail the world with me. What do you say?”

Tony gaped a moment longer before smiling. “I’d like that, Jethro. But you may have to wait a while.”

Gibbs nodded. “I know, but I’m willing to wait as long as it takes, Tony. I still have work to do at any rate – as do you.”

~*~*~

Tony’s pants hung low on his lips. He turned his face up to the sun, a slow smile blossoming on his tanned face. Jethro decided that, right at this moment, he was in heaven.

They had been sailing for a month and were currently in the Caribbean. Tony had been out of the hospital for two months and Jethro had made sure to get the blessings of Dr. Beck before setting out on this journey. Tony still had nightmares about his time with Sebastian but, luckily, he didn’t remember much about the whorehouse. Those nightmares were lessened somewhat when Sebastian was arrested for the murder of Kyle Leone.

Both men knew that Sebastian had committed more murders than the one, but there was precious little evidence to go on in the others. With Tony’s testimony, Sebastian would be going away for a very long time. Jethro just needed to make sure Tony was strong enough to testify. This voyage would go a long way toward healing Tony but, ultimately, Tony’s recovery and ability to get his life back was up to Tony. He’d come a long way, but still had a ways to go. Addiction didn’t just go away, it had to be fought back and beaten into the ground. Jethro vowed he would be there every step of the way.

Suddenly, Tony seemed to sense Jethro’s presence and turned a smiling face toward him.

“Join me?” Tony said huskily.

Jethro walked out to where Tony was sitting, handing him a cold bottle of water and sinking down to sit next to him. “Still glad you came?”

Tony smiled. “If you mean am I upset that I quit my job at NCIS, the answer is no. I’m right where I want to be, Jethro – here, with you.”

“And later?”

Tony laughed. “Quit worrying. I’m not going anywhere – and neither are you.” Tony turned sideways and kissed Jethro. Tony’s lips pressed softly against Jethro’s, his tongue tracing a line across Jethro’s lips that was making him mad with desire.

“Don’t start anything you can’t finish, Tony,” Jethro warned softly, his hands roaming over Tony’s bare chest hungrily.

“Who said I can’t finish?” Tony asked, his voice breathy.

Jethro smiled and pulled Tony to his feet, leading him into the cabin. He would put his thoughts of tomorrows aside and concentrate on all of his todays – as long as Tony was at his side – and in his bed.

END


End file.
